


Alstroemeria

by DaddyDames



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Families of Choice, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:06:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaddyDames/pseuds/DaddyDames
Summary: The flower of friendship and prosperity. Too bad the message was dissected in two different ways. Robert and Damien are not in equal mindsets. It will come to resolving issues or creating heartbreak.





	Alstroemeria

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is mostly just me blustering through my own dysphoria and crying over the man that helped me pick out my preferred name, which is literally Damien.
> 
> If you like this fic, lemme know. I have a busy AF schedule, so I don't want to waste either of our time.

Damien Bloodmarch had a lot of emotions to battle with. Whether it be dealing with dysphoria, people, his beloved son, or himself, there was a lot of things he had to handle. Damien was proud that he had learned better ways to cope with his stressors, he had certainly done worse. Sighing into his cup of wine, he shook his head of memories, happily gazing across the room to his silver-haired rebel. His favorite person in the world so far, even placing above himself. His gaze finally landed on a family portrait. It was back when Lucien was a baby and Damien pre-transition. His boyfriend was by Damien's shoulder and his father and mother were behind them. Damien's face was aglow with happiness, his little Lucien tucked in his arms. It was back in a time where he had longer hair, a rounder face, and no binder. It was equally the best and worst of times. His grin twitched as he remembered the fights, the breakup, the custody battles. It bothered him how many times he had to sign away documents with his dead name and weak wrist. Every chance to compare himself to other men made him sadder and more uncomfortable. Slowly, things got better, one step at a time. And now, he has a wonderful son and a beautiful home. He couldn't help but want someone else to share it with. Sitting up, he told Lucien he was going to the Christiansens to find Mary. All he got was a grunt in conformation.

Robert was a fucking mess. He has a drinking problem, a bad relationship with his daughter, and a string of one-night stands to pair. His house and life were a mess. At least his living room was an actual visual representation of how his life is going. Accuracy IS important. He lolled uselessly on the couch, desperately trying to find motivation in life because it worked so well before. His latest book seemed to be doing well, but that was about it. Never got much farther than that. He dragged himself up and staggered down the street to the bar. Mary met him at the door, pushing him in and immediately getting a round of drinks. She scoped out the newbies before settling down next to Rob.

Mary started off by bitching about her many kids. Dozens of kids. By dozens, she means four, but Mary was always one for venting. Robert drank down whiskey, drowning her out for the most part. He nodded and grunted in the right places, perfect for Mary. "...and then I said, "Well shove a stick up my ass and call me a popsicle, how the hell are ya", but Joseph took exception to that…"

Yup, he didn't miss a thing.

Now, when the door banged open and the bat emerged, Robert would like to tell you he played it cool. He did not. When the attractive goth hit up the bar, Robert looked like he was about to flee. The thing is, Damien happened upon Robert last week in the cemetery. Robert was ghost hunting, or something with his Betsy when he found Damien. Damien had his knees hugged to his chest, his head hung down in shame. Robert, as much as he pretends to be smooth, was not good at handling tears. He tried to subtly back up and run away, but Betsy let out one bark and started to hop into Damien's lap. Dames let out a yelp, confused by the furry mass now nipping at his hair. He lifted his head from his knees and gave the tiny dog a solid pat. The little mess squiggled away back towards the guy she occasionally followed, Robert. "O-oh! Robert! It is wonderful seeing you here!"

Robert shifted uneasily, unsure if he should acknowledge how downtrodden Damien seemed. He coughed. Damien looked away. "Erm. I am going to l-leave? Unless you want me to s-stay?" Robert stuttered out.

"No, get some rest, dear Robert. I'll be okay" He replied, but it felt like he wanted to add more. Robert backed away from the emotional confrontation he didn't want to participate in. Ever since Robert and Damien have made awkward eye contact since. The worst.

Damien made his way over to them, probably intent on talking to Mary. His shirt fluttered through the air as he sat himself down, chatting with Mary. Robert turned away from the two, content with finishing his drink. Mary was exuberant to talk to Damien. With all the kids she has to deal with, Mary was having a harder time seeming Damien. They always had dogs. Mary said something about seeing Dames again and he will go drinking with her again. Damien let out a genuine laugh, one that made honey seem sickening. Robert smiled to Damien and tipped his glass in respect. Damien gave a small, but quite dashing grin and sipped at his red wine.

Silence rung in Robert's ears, but he was just gonna sit it out. He was better at handling silence than conversation anyway. One benefit is that the blush on Damien's cheeks continue to darken as the seconds barreled through. "How is your dog?" Damien finally questioned.

"My little dork ran into the door three times this morning before I opened it for her."

"So...good then?"

"Yes."

The quiet this time was pleasant. The corners of Damien's mouth twitched up at the thought of that darn dog trying her very best. He swept the last of his wine back. Both men stood up and set down their glasses. Together they walked back to their homes, the sounds of the trees and their footsteps somber the mood. But, the conversation was never forced. When they split off, Damien gave him a bow, pulling a flower out from behind him.

...where the fuck did that come from?

"Alstroemeria, the flower of friendship. If you wouldn't mind…" Damien trailed off.

Robert had to conceal mad laughter at how cheesy that move was. He looked Damien right in the eye and plucked the flower out of Damien's fist. "Yup."

They parted, their doors closing behind them. Damien huffed out, tired and emotionally drained. His cheeks burnt from the surly weird gesture of friendship he had made toward the discount Supernatural character. Robert was certainly someone he wanted to know better. He was so tight-lipped that it was unsurprising Dames barely knew what to say to him. Mary had mentioned a few things, but they were brief and Mary was, well...very drunk. It was one of the few occasions she didn't want to go home to Joseph, so she would duck out and sleep in the Victorian house near them. Apparently, one time this had caused a rather sizable fight because Joseph thought Mary was sleeping with Damien, but it was dispelled with time. What has now funny, was that Joseph seemed to be out and about with the new dad in town, even though Robert had already slept with him. Mary had said they had even gone out on the boat together. Damien wandered upstairs to check on Lucien. His band-postered door opened enough where Damien could peak in. "Remember to sleep tonight! Love you, Luce" Damien chimed in.

"Uggggh. Yeah, okay, whatever. Goodnight, dad."

Damien smiled down at his biggest treasure. Man, he loved that kid. His battle cry was "Bloodmarches stand tall!" He never allowed any remark on his dad's absurdities. His biggest priority is protecting is eccentric father, no matter the cost.

Robert, being himself, filled a drained beer glass with water and stuck the flower in it. He put his makeshift vase on the counter, grinning dumbly. He was sure he looked strange smiling at an orange-yellow flower such as this. The goth had finally given him an olive branch, so to speak. Honestly, Robert would have preferred more of a suggestion of romance because he would very willing to get into those fancy, Victorian-style pants. He wondered if Damien was the kind of guy to accept a one-nighter, but he doubted it. Damien definitely reads as the romantic type. This makes the whole process more complicated. Damn.


End file.
